"If you come back here, I'm calling the police immediately," I say through her window as she fumbles with her keys. "Stay away from my daughter."
"Ourdaughter," she spits, finally getting the key in the ignition. "I'll be back. With a lawyer. And you'll have to give her to me. She's mine."
"No.Mydaughter. You lost that right when you left her."
She peels out, tires squealing, almost hitting my mailbox. I watch until her car turns the corner and disappears completely.
Only then do I allow myself to breathe.
Only then do I let my hands shake.
Only then do I run back inside to Nora.
She's still standing exactly where I left her, Harper clutched against her chest, both of them crying now. Nora's got tears streaming down her face, but her grip on Harper is steady, protective.
"Red." I'm across the room in two steps, wrapping my arms around both of them. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Did she touch you?"
"No. I thought it was a delivery, and I opened the door, and she pushed past me before I could stop her." The words come out in a rush, Nora's voice shaking. "She started talking about wanting Harper back, lawyers, and how she's the mother, and I didn't know what to do. I texted you, and I tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn't, and she kept getting closer to Harper and?—"
"You did perfectly. You texted me, you kept Harper safe, you stayed between them." I press a kiss to her hair, then her forehead, then her lips. "You were perfect, Red. So perfect."
"I was terrified."
"I know. But you didn't let her see that." I cup her face with one hand. "You protected Harper. That's all that matters."
Harper's still crying, her little face red and scrunched up, and I take her from Nora carefully. She's hot from crying, her onesie damp with tears and sweat.
"Hey, baby girl. It's okay. Daddy's here. You're safe. That scary lady is gone, and she's not coming back. I promise. You're safe."
I rock her, walking in slow circles around the living room, and gradually her cries taper off into hiccups. Nora sinks onto the couch, her hands still shaking.
“We need to call your lawyer,” she says, her voice steadier now but still tight. “Immediately. Before she does. If she actually gets a lawyer?—”
“She won’t get one.” But even as I say it, I’m not sure. “She doesn’t have money for a lawyer. Look at that car. Look at her.”
"Desperate people do desperate things." Nora's already pulling out her phone. "And she's clearly desperate. We need to get ahead of this."
She's right. I know she's right.
"Okay. I’ll call them today. Right now." I'm still rocking Harper, who's finally calming down. "And we document everything. What time she showed up, what she said, how she looked."
"Two thirty-four p.m.," Nora says immediately, already typing into her phone. "She rang the doorbell, and I answered with Harper. She pushed past me into the living room and said she wanted her daughter back. Her eyes were dilated, her movements were erratic, and she was clearly under the influence of something. She made threats about lawyers and courts favoring mothers."
I watch her document everything with precise detail, her fingers flying across her phone screen, and I fall in love with her all over again.
She's scared. She's shaking. But she's handling this.
"She touched Harper's toys," Nora continues. "The elephant, the blocks, the rattle. She was moving around the room erratically. She wouldn't leave when asked. She only left when you threatened to call the police."
"Red—"
"No. We're doing this right." She looks up at me, her hazel eyes fierce despite the fear still visible in them. "She threatened to take Harper. We're not letting that happen."
"We're not," I agree.
Harper's asleep now, exhausted from crying, her little body heavy in my arms. I carry her upstairs and put her in her crib gently, watching her for a moment to make sure she's really settled.
When I come back down, I call my lawyer.